


Samhuinn

by ML_Fox



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bonfires, Conversations, Druids, Epic Friendship, F/M, Fire, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Halloween, Male-Female Friendship, Marauders' Era, POV Sirius Black, POV Third Person, Pagan Festivals, Rituals, Romantic Friendship, Samhain, Samhuinn, Scottish Character, Talking, Traditions, Wicca, Wizarding Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 17:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12562388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ML_Fox/pseuds/ML_Fox
Summary: "Samhuinn celebrations." “Saw—what?”During his scenic route back to Hogwarts Castle, Sirius catches Mary taking part in Samhuinn celebrations... whatever that means.





	Samhuinn

The Forbidden Forest was peaceful tonight. Overhead, the nearly full moon casted its silver spotlight over the grounds while the stars shined brightly in clusters for anyone who cared to look. Deep within the woods was a lazy melody of noises, adding to its magical ambience. There was no sense of the eerie or the horrifying, as was the forest’s reputation. It was just the sky, the sounds, and the trees. Perfect in its own way.

Sirius pocketed his hands and smiled. The scenic route was a good decision. A shame his mates couldn’t be with him. Their duties called them back to the castle and so, being the only free man, Sirius took the liberty to explore the fringes of the forest before returning. After where he had just been, some fresh air and a renewed appreciation for the living world were a sought after change.

Suddenly, a flash of light caught the corner of his eye. Turning to the source, he saw a faint veil of orange light touching upon some of the trees ahead. He frowned. In a place where students were forbidden to explore and the teachers rarely visited, it was a curious sight.

Tilting his head to one side, he planted his hands on his hips. Should he look? He glanced at the direction of the castle, pursing his lips as he _actually_ considered being good and returning. But then a grin stretched his lips wide. _Not today_. He already broke the rules anyway. Without hesitation he made his way towards the light. Quietly. Carefully. With every metre he crossed the glow grew brighter. Soon he caught the buzzing of muffled conversation and laughter. There seemed to be a clearing ahead. He moved faster. What would he see? Centaurs? Sirius smirked to himself. Perhaps he’d get lucky and discover of group of Veelas native to the forest.

He was close. Now, he heard snippets of conversation underneath rambunctious laughter. The line of trees thinned; through them he glimpsed embers dancing upwards and dissipating before reaching the sky. Silhouettes blocked the sight of the embers every so often, but he couldn’t discern to whom they belonged to. He found a tree closest to the perimeter of the clearing. He hid behind it, keeping most of his body behind the trunk as he peeked.

In the centre was a tall bonfire. Surrounding it were alternating rings of cushions and food. There were eighty or so people dressed in cloaks; they sat on the cushions, ate the food, and mingled with the others. However, strangely, the first two rows closest to the fire were undisturbed.

Sirius frowned. What’s happening? What were they? Hogsmeade villagers? Strange… forest people of the forest? _Death Eaters_? He shuddered at the last thought. Voldemort’s most lethal worshippers sneaking into Hogwarts grounds _just_ to gather around some bonfire? Stupid. These people didn’t feel like Death Eaters anyway. In spite of that, though, more than half of the gathering had their hoods down, but he couldn’t recognise any of the exposed faces.

Hang on.

Sirius squinted. Four rows away from the bonfire, laughing with a group, was Benjy Fenwick. It was definitely him. He couldn’t mistake that face nor could he miss the golden boy grin that was Fenwick’s signature. Then just behind Benjy was another student Sirius recognised: Melanie Macmillan. She was staring intensely inside a tea cup in front of Nancy Abbott, another student. All tension now left Sirius. Well, definitely not anything dangerous. Not Veelas either, _sadly_.

He crossed his arms, watching, trying to understand. Now just begged the question of what in the bloody hell they’re all doing. It seemed like an ordinary gathering… just with unordinary details—like the cloaks and the set up. It resembled a cult. Sirius stewed in his own questions and theories, frustrated that the urgent need to satisfy his curiosity was quelled by the fact that if he barged in and started demanding answers he’d be in trouble… or inducted.

A few minutes passed and nothing interesting happened. Sirius yawned, eyes following Macmillan and contemplating on returning to the castle when he recognised someone else. He straightened, attention captured and heart quickening in excitement. Unbeknownst to him, the corners of his lips were stretched wide in a grin.

It was Mary.

She walked past Macmillan. His gaze followed her now as she said a brief greeting before approaching a group containing two more people he recognised: Professor Ophius, the Astronomy teacher, and Professor McManus, the Muggle Studies teacher. Well, then… it may not be a cult with teachers involved—perhaps just a very strange excursion? As Mary entered the group she was welcomed by exuberant greetings and hugs by the others, the teachers incredibly friendly in talking to her.

A sense of novelty settled over Sirius. In the darkness the fabric of her cloak looked black, but he had a feeling it was actually blue. She had her hood down, hair gathered on either side of her shoulders. She looked the same… but somehow different. Unreachable. This Mary was different to the one he knew. After knowing her for years there were still parts of her he didn’t know. It was disconcerting—for reasons that eluded him. He watched her, discomfort spreading throughout his body as she talked and laughed, especially whenever Ophius said something. He pressed his arms harder against himself.

She stayed with the group for a while. After, she moved on. Every move was with grace, ethereal in the dark of the woods. Was it because of the cloak or has she always moved that way? With every group or person she passed she was greeted with genuine happiness. To Sirius’ detriment, however, she stopped by Fenwick’s group. Sirius scowled when they embraced, Fenwick looking a little _too_ happy to hold her. He took her hand when they separated, facing her palm towards him. He said something and Mary laughed.

He looked away. He tried to watch the rest of the gathering, but every so often his eyes returned to her and each time he found her _still_ talking to Fenwick his mood soured more. Finally, to his relief, McManus gathered the crowd to her. Silence fell as she and Ophius addressed them. After the speech, the professors waved their wands. Jars gathered before them and floated in front of each person in the crowd. Mary and a few others got more than two. With a flick, the professors then took out smaller flames from the bonfire and placed them within the jars. While the crowd closed the lids, the professors portioned the leftover food and handed them out too. After some final words the group dispersed as McManus led out of the clearing while Ophius remained behind.

People were going his way. Sirius hid behind the trunk, the darkness covering him as people started to walk past his tree, their jars of fire illuminating them. He waited for Mary, but didn’t find her. He finally saw her when he dared peek again, walking towards his tree too.

Perfect.

He intercepted her. She yelped at his sudden appearance. He lunged and cut her off by pressing the tips of his fingers against her mouth. Her lips were soft against his skin… but he didn’t get the chance to appreciate that as teeth chomped on a good portion of his palm. Hard. “Ow!” he hissed, yanking back his hand. “What the _fuck—_ ”

“Who the bloody hell are you!?” Mary demanded.

“ _Shhh_ —Merlin. Macdonald, it’s me.” Sirius held onto her shoulders. “It’s me.”

“Sirius?” she grabbed one of the jars and held it between them. He grinned at her and she gasped. “God, Sirius!” she released the jar. It bobbed in the air as she took his hands and rubbed his recently bitten palm. “ _Bugger_. I am so sorry.”

“You’ve got some jaws on you,” he chuckled. Her hands were warm. Gentle.

“Can’t say you didn’t deserve it,” she said, raising a brow at him. “What are you even doing—”

Suddenly, she leaned towards him and sniffed. He leaned back. “What?”

“Godric.” She recoiled. “You smell like rotten food and dung.”

“Do I?” Sirius took a whiff of his collar and frowned.

She’d stopped rubbing, but still held onto his hands. “What have you been doing?”

“Ah. Just been to Nick’s death day—”

“Mary!”

Fenwick appeared before them with his own floating jar of fire. Sirius looked at him, smirking as Fenwick’s golden boy grin seemed to freeze on his face. He looked at Sirius, then at Mary, and then at their hands. Her fingers twitched in his, but before she could disengage, he held on tight.

“All right, Fenwick?” Sirius asked, smiling innocently at the boy.

“Black,” Fenwick said. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Yep,” he agreed.

“Right…” Fenwick drawled hesitantly. Then, slowly he turned to Mary. “I thought I’d walk you back.”

The nerve of this prick. Sirius could just imagine a golden retriever’s tail wagging between Fenwick’s legs. He turned to Mary, raising his brows, suppressing a grin when she squeezed his hands _too_ tightly. She smiled apologetically at Fenwick. “Very kind of you, Benjy, but, uhm, I need to have a chat with Sirius so…”

“I see.” The disappointment was so clear in his voice it was laughable.

“But I’ll catch you tomorrow, yeah?”

Oh, that tail wagged that much faster. “Of course!”

She beamed. “Good. Be careful on your way back.”

“You too.”

Sirius looked at Fenwick at his warning tone and received a steady gaze from him. He winked. “Bye, _Benjy_.”

“See you.” Fenwick moved on. Sirius scowled as he watched Fenwick’s back disappearing into the darkness. He then turned to Mary, smiling more genuinely.

“Are you completely mad?” Mary said, dropping his hands.

“Not completely,” he quipped.

She sighed and shook her head, moving on. “What are you even doing here?” The fire jars floated around her like some sort of portable lights. She was not the only one; the rest of the crowd were ahead, only identifiable by their gently bobbing fire jars that occasionally illuminated the nearby trees.

“Witnessing a bizarre ritual.” He grinned unapologetically when Mary gave him an unamused glare. “What about you?”

“Taking part in a bizarre ritual, I suppose,” she sighed.

“Seriously,” he said, tapping one of the jars gently. “What was that?”

Mary breathed deeply. “Samhuinn celebrations.”

“Saw— _what_?”

“Samhuinn.”

“Sah-heen?”

“Merlin—Samhuinn!”

“Sow-ween?”

Mary snorted. “Close enough.”

Sirius beamed. “So… what’s Samhuinn?”

“Seriously?” Mary looked at him in surprise and he nodded. He wasn’t joking; now that there was someone to answer all his questions he was wasting no time. “Well,” she huffed, “it’s a magical holiday. Celtic. We celebrate the dead, the spirits, and the coming winter. There’s a bonfire, as you saw, and… let’s see… divination, food, games, human sacrifices—”

“ _Human sacrifices!?_ ”

“Yeah,” Mary said, face frighteningly straight. “Hogsmeade provides them, see—criminals, though. We don’t want to set any innocent lives on fire.”

Sirius stared at her, jaw slack and eyes wide. “Please tell me you’re joking.” Mary looked at him and held his gaze. For a few, tense minutes neither of them said anything. Sirius was so close to believing her when her passive mask cracked and a smile shined through. He sighed and pushed her. “Come on, Macdonald, I’m serious.”

“Hello, Sirius, I’m Mary.”

He pushed her again. “Stop.”

She laughed. “All right—sorry.”

“What is it, really?”

“It’s what I said—minus the human sacrifices, of course.”

“Okay.” It sounded… normal. “I’ve never heard of it before, though.”

“No?” Mary smiled. “We learned about it in History of Magic.”

“R _eally_?” Sirius thought back to all the lessons he bothered to attend... none of them ring a bell about Samhuinn. Then again, when he did attend all he ever did was sleep and copy off Remus’ notes after.

“Mhm.”

“I…” why was he feeling embarrassed? “Honestly, though, whoever paid attention to Binns?”

“True,” she laughed. “Generally, not many in the Wizarding World know about it. Same with the Muggles. If you’re Celtic, you’d probably know. If you’re related or know someone who is then you have a good chance.”

“Are you Celtic?”

“Sure—on my father’s side.” She shrugged. “ _If_ my nan was to be believed.”

“Huh.” He knew about the Celts and the Druids from Remus’ notes. But he barely remembered what he learned. It’d make sense for some members of the magical community to have other magical blood in them—similar to how some families in France have Veela blood. Pureblood families were never proud to make such claims unless it referred to powerful figures. Godric knew his mother was adamant of their relation to Slytherin or Morgana. He glanced at Mary and the fire jars bobbing around her. “What’s with the fire?”

She caught his gaze. “These?”

He tapped one of the jars. “Yeah. The bonfire too.”

“Sacred fire,” she answered. “Back in the old days the Druids light great bonfires in villages during Samhuinn. Hearths in every home are doused and relit with the embers of the sacred fire. The Druids imbued it with magical protection, see, and it bonded the villagers together.”

“So why bring it back with you?”

“For my mates.” she chuckled. “Protection spells are now easier to cast so this is just normal fire, but bringing it back to my mates and the Gryffindor fireplace is a nice gesture so why not, you know?”

“I see.”

Silence fell between them. They were finally out of the forest. The castle loomed close ahead of them. Sirius looked around and saw the rest of the gathering more clearly. Behind them, the bonfire was no longer visible, save for the faint glow of orange on the tree tops. He looked at Mary and saw that she was nibbling on the leftovers: apples, nuts, cheese, cold meat and pastries. She caught his eyes and smiled, presenting him the food. He smiled back and took a slice of apple. Up ahead, he could already see the doors.

“You mentioned being at Headless Nick’s party?”

“Hmmm?” Sirius saw her looking at him still. “Yeah.”

“Where was it this time?”

He snorted. “One of the empty greenhouses.”

“Ah,” she giggled. “Just you?”

“Nah. I was with James and the others.”

“Why are you alone, then?”

He grinned at her. “Decided to take the scenic route.”

She nudged him. “Stumbled into quite a scene, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “an interesting one.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.” Sirius wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed her tightly against his side. “Never saw anything like this before. Honestly, I thought I was witnessing a cult at first.”

“Oh…” she looked down at herself and chuckled. “Yeah. It’s all part of tradition, though.”

They reached the entrance. Before them the rest of the crowd had gathered, waiting. The double doors were opened to get as much of the people in as possible. Professor McManus and some others were on either side of the doors, ushering the crowd in. Sirius managed to blend in as he joined the people trickling inside. He waited for Mary to come through and together they set off to Gryffindor Tower.

“You know, it’s too bad,” Mary said.

“What is?”

“That not many people know about traditions like these anymore.”

Sirius looked at her and saw her smiling wistfully. “Why’s that?”

“Oh, just… you know, the opportunity to learn and celebrate our roots.” She shrugged. “Magic is, after all, nuanced in any place.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You know Ilvermorny, yeah?”

“The American school? Of course.”

“Professor Ophius taught there for a year.” She smiled. “Did you know that though they’ve incorporated Native American magic that their roots were actually Irish?”

“That… I didn’t know,” Sirius admitted.

“Yeah,” she replied excitedly. “He visited the Australian school once too—can’t remember the name. They had their roots from here too. But he says there’s a difference between the innate origins of magic and transferred magic.”

He listened to Mary _gush_ —there was no other word for it—about Ophius’ great knowledge of the magical world. He noticed her eyes sparkling, hands moving animatedly, and the hint of pink on her cheeks. His chest constricted and the words that came out of his mouth were sarcastic. “Ophius sure does go around.”

“He does. He is _amazing_ —his stories, I mean. His stories are amazing.”

“Huh.” He intoned. “Why was he there? Is he Celtic too?”

“Oh, no,” Mary chuckled. “No, he’s supervising. Professor McManus, though, is.”

“I see.”

“But it’s good to see someone non-Celtic joining. Magic is to be shared, after all.” Her expression softened. “He’s appreciative of our differences so it’s nice.”

“Do you fancy him or something?” _That_ … was not something he meant to say. His mind was trying to come to terms with what was happening, but the words escaped him instead. Without his permission. He nearly cringed when she flinched and looked at him in panic. In his own panic, he couldn’t give her anything except a passive expression.

“W-why do you ask?” she squeaked.

Might as well see it through. “The way you talk about him.”

“Well, no, Sirius, I don’t…” she trailed off as he stared at her. He’d never seen anyone’s face go that red before. It was bloody brighter than the flames. “Erm…. Okay. Maybe. _A tiny bit_. But that’s because for a professor he’s… you know… amazing.”

He smirked. “You called him amazing. Twice.”

“What about it?” She shot back.

“ _I_ … am amazing,” he replied. Casually. They finally reached the hallway leading to the portrait. Sirius didn’t even realise they had arrived. It was a little fun poking Macdonald with the proverbial stick and seeing her reactions—though they were at his expense.

“Not really,” she said.

“Not really!?” Sirius gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “My, Macdonald, I am hurt.”

She snorted. “Stop being a prick and you’ll definitely be amazing.”

“When have I ever been a prick?”

“A while ago. With Benjy.”

Sirius nodded, though he did smirk at the memory. “Right.”

They arrived. Mary said the password and the Fat Lady let them through. With a bow, Sirius let her go first. The fire jars trailed behind her as she took his offer. He followed after her, finding her waiting for him as he emerged. As usual, the common room was bustling with people. Sirius wondered if his friends were here and itched to go, but at the same time he didn’t want to leave Mary. He wanted to keep talking to her. “So…”

“I’m sure you want to find your friends,” she said, smiling at him.

He smiled back, sheepishly. “Yeah…”

“Right, hang on.” She reached for one of the fire jars and handed it to him. “Here.”

He held onto the jar. “I thought this was for your friends?”

She winked. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

That caught him off guard. He blinked, words failing him for a second. “Y-yeah…”

“Then I wish this winter is kind to you.” She held his hand and squeezed.

He stared at her, a little shell shocked at her kindness. “Oh, t-thank you—for the fire and… and everything.”

She beamed. “Have a good night.” With that, she turned and made her way to the fireplace.

“Night…” he mumbled, watching her. A strange warm feeling settled in his chest as he glanced down at the fire she had given to him. Unbeknownst to him, the corners of his lips stretched in a smile; he pulled the jar close to his chest as he turned to make his way to the seventh boys’ dorm.

**Author's Note:**

> [FF.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12706970/1/) | [Tumblr](http://myuntoldstory.tumblr.com/post/166947206370/harry-potter-samhuinn)
> 
> 1\. Happy Halloween/Samhain!
> 
> 2\. I wanted to write a Halloween thing for Blackdonald! I had to stretch my imagination a little bit for this one. When I think of Halloween the first things the come to mind are candy, trick-or-treat, and costumes, but these traditions are mostly American. So I researched what people in the UK actually did during Halloween and it turned out that among many other things one of them was Samhain (something they still celebrate to this day). I read about it and found it interesting—it also seemed like a plausible celebration in Hogwarts so I went ahead. I hope I did it justice! I just went with what I learned in my research.
> 
> 3\. [Samhain](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samhain) [is](http://www.historic-uk.com/CultureUK/Halloween/) a Celtic celebration that commemorates the coming of winter as well as the opening of the portal between the living and the dead. Druids built bonfires. Hearths in homes were doused and rekindled with embers from the sacred bonfire. There was mummery involved where people wore costumes and begged for food from the villagers. Families prepared places for the souls of their loved ones on the dining table. These are mostly the details I included in the story just to make it simple.
> 
> Now, there are spelling differences as you can see. Samhain is the Irish spelling while Samhuinn is the Scottish Gaelic spelling. The reason for the Scottish Gaelic is because, in my head, Mary Macdonald is Scottish on her father's side. With that in mind I thought it'd make sense to have her celebrate Samhain. And, you know, with Hogwarts located in Scotland Samhain celebrations would be an awesome normal thing to happen every Halloween.
> 
> That's it! Thank you very much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and, as always, feedback is appreciated.


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